


Honey Trapped

by ineffably-effable (ineffably_effable)



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crack, Exactly What It Says on the Tin, M/M, wild mountain thyme has a lot to answer for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:20:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28256073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ineffably_effable/pseuds/ineffably-effable
Summary: Crowley thinks he's a bee.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20





	Honey Trapped

**Author's Note:**

> This fic only exists because racketghost@ (on tumblr) made a reference to Wild Mountain Thyme that went completely over my head.
> 
> Slight warning for some non-consensual cuddling from someone not currently in their right mind.

* * *

_4 months after the narrowly averted armageddon._

_2 weeks and 6 days after Aziraphale and Crowley moved into a charming cottage in The South Downs._

_2 weeks, 5 days and 22 hours after a series of misunderstandings left them both under the impression the other was only comfortable with platonic cohabitation._

_Shortly before Elevenses._

* * *

Aziraphale was a creature of habit.

Every Sunday he made his way into town to pick up pastries to go with his morning tea. This particular morning was no exception. Shortly after breakfast he left Crowley to his gardening and set off to visit the local bakery.

All in all, he’d been gone less than an hour.

Certainly, he thought to himself, not enough time to excuse (or explain) Crowley standing in their front yard, wings out for all the world to see, rubbing his face into a sunflower.

“Crowley?” 

Aziraphale called out to him more out of habit than out of an expectation he would reply. (Although unlikely, he supposed it might be possible Crowley was trying out some new unconventional method of gardening.)

That particular hope evaporated when the demon looked up and stared at him with an entranced expression on his face, sclera blown wide and orange pollen clinging to his skin.

“Are you - ah” Aziraphale took a few cautious steps forward, a little unnerved by the vacant stare, “Are you feeling well, dear?”.

Crowley tilted his head to the side, but otherwise only stared unblinkingly back at him.

As Aziraphale drew nearer, he noticed Crowley’s nose start twitching. The demon had flicked his tongue out and was alternating between sniffing and tasting the air. In a flurry of movement he spread his wings and beat them with such unnatural speed they emitted a low pitched buzzing sound. Before Aziraphale could react, Crowley flew straight at him. In a matter of seconds he had wrapped his arms around the angel’s shoulders and pulled him in close, effectively pinning Aziraphale’s arms to his sides as he pressed their bodies together. (Blessedly, Aziraphale managed to hang on to the pastries - but it was a close thing). The more the angel attempted to extract himself, the more Crowley tightened his grip. In fact, as if encouraged by the movement, he nuzzled Aziraphale’s neck and started lapping with his tongue all over Aziraphale’s face. When Aziraphale flinched, Crowley took advantage of the angel’s shocked gasp to start licking directly into his mouth.

This act proved a bridge too far for Aziraphale. He recoiled, wrinkling his nose at the sickly sweet taste of pollen, and exerted a small amount of angelic strength to push Crowley away.

Unperturbed, the demon flew back across the yard, ostensibly in search of a new flower to harvest.

_Well,_ thought Aziraphale. _That was a thing_. 

He watched as Crowley selected a new flower, favouring one large enough that he could start tonguing it enthusiastically.

"Hullo Mr. Fell." A familiar voice called out. Looking past Crowley, Aziraphale noticed a bemused adversary waving to him from the swing on their front porch, his diminutive hell hound on his lap.

"Adam!" Aziraphale greeted, faking a composure he didn’t feel as he miracled the pollen from his face and his disheveled clothing to its previous state. "I don’t suppose you happen to know what's gotten into Crowley?"

Adam grinned.

“He bet me I couldn’t hypnotize him.”

Aziraphale resolved never to leave Crowley without supervision again.

“So now he believes himself to be a... bee?” Aziraphale guessed (taking into consideration of the demon’s recent affinity for flowers and buzzing).

“Yep.”

When no further information appeared forthcoming Aziraphale voiced the obvious question:

“ _Why_?”

“Bees are great. Pepper’s mums keep a hive and- ” 

Recognizing a tangent when he heard one, Aziraphale nipped it in the bud.

“Sorry, dear boy, I meant why were you discussing hypnotism?”

“Brian’s Dad is trying to quit smoking and the doctor suggested hypnotherapy,” Adam said quickly, in a way that suggested this was not his first time telling this particular story, “but his Dad fell asleep during the session so Brian asked if I’d give it a shot. Pepper and Wensleydale thought I should see if Mr. Crowley could teach me how.” 

Aziraphale blinked.

“Adam,” he began, “Surely you realize it would be wrong to coerce someone?”

‘‘Yeah, but Brian’s dad _wanted_ to try it.” he insisted, “We told him my godfather was a magician and he was going to teach me how.”

“You told him _Crowley_ was a magician?” 

“He looks the part. ‘Just needs a spot of eyeliner, that one’ Mum said - ”

(Aziraphale possessed enough self-awareness that he recognized how ridiculous it was to be offended by that. He also recognized now was not the ideal time to engage in a conversation about how _a spot of eyeliner did not a magician make._ )

“- so I popped over here to chat to Mr. Crowley and he said I probably wouldn’t be able to do it because it’s more of a snake demon trick than an occult trick.”

“I see.”

“That’s when I bet him that I could.” 

“Right.”

Crowley chose that moment to repeat his trek back over to Aziraphale who, now wise to what he was after, was able to narrowly avoid being pounced on before shooing him back off towards the flowers. Adam did a very poor job of hiding his amusement, but wisely kept his mouth shut as Aziraphale turned back to him.

“Do you have any idea why he seems quite so insistent on licking me?" 

Adam snorted and concealed it poorly with a cough.

"Well, Pep’s ma said the worker bees swarm around their queen? They sniff her out so they can feed and protect her.”

" _Oh_." 

Adam grinned but otherwise ignored him.

"He’s always around you, so seems reasonable he’d think you were important?"

A little distance away, Crowley hummed in displeasure as the flower he was nuzzling collapsed. Aziraphale performed a quick miracle to enlarge one of the nearby violets to keep him occupied.

"Is there any particular reason you haven’t restored him yet?" 

“Nah, just waiting for you to get back."

"Me?"

"Crowley suggested that I should wait for you if anything happened. I think he was worried about stinging me or something." Adam rolled his eyes. He stood up and walked down the steps, Dog at his heels. "You want me to do it now then?"

"Yes please."

"Sure."

Adam waved a hand and suddenly Crowley was coughing and spluttering, wiping his tongue clean on the inside of his shirt.

"What in the ever loving fuck?"

"Back with us, dear?" Azirpaphale asked sweetly.

"Angel what the sodding hell is going on? Everything smells like flowers-" he felt along his face, "- I'm sticky. _Why_ am I sticky?"

Adam glanced sidelong at Aziraphale.

"Adam, what are you doing here?"

"Just visiting, thanks for the help Mr. Crowley!"

"Help with-?" Crowley’s face fell. “-don’t tell me you got it on your first try,” he growled.

Aziraphale feigned a sudden interest in his hands.

"Thanks for the chat Mr. Fell."

"Anytime dear, you're always welcome. Did you want a croissant before you go?"

Adam grabbed one from the proffered bag. He made a “cheers” gesture before biting into it and promptly vanishing (along with Dog).

"Angel?"

When Aziraphale turned Crowley was standing only a few paces away from him, looking stricken but considerably less orange.

"Yes dear?"

" _Please_ tell me I didn't stick my tongue down your throat."

"Well, that's a little hyperbolic-" he began consolingly, "- I mean, even with your tongue the length it is, you could barely reach my tonsils."

When he finally looked up Crowley was starting at him in horror.

Stung, and not caring to conceal it, Aziraphale turned for the cottage. "Well, no harm done then. Let’s get you a cup of tea."

"I’m sorry angel, I’d have never done that if I was-”

"Never?" Aziraphale asked, somewhat sharper than intended.

Crowley blinked.

"Not on _purpose!_ "

"That inspires confidence."

"Aziraphale." 

"No? Would you prefer coffee? The croissants are fresh, maybe some human food would do you good after all the pollen you’ve ingested-"

" _Aziraphale_." When he turned, Crowley was regarding him with a bemused look.

“Yes?’

"Was it any good?"

Aziraphale didn’t quite manage to avoid cringing. 

"It was rather like being licked in the mouth by an enthusiastic puppy,” he quipped. “Not much finesse I'm afraid.”

Crowley shook his head. He rubbed a hand over his face, and pulled slightly on his earlobe while not quite making eye-contact.

"Well apologies if my technique was subpar, there was the slight impediment of believing I was a bee." Crowley responded waspishly.

"Of course, dear." he gestured back towards the cottage, “Shall we?” 

"Seems like it's only fair I should get the opportunity to defend my honor." he offered a little too casually. 

Aziraphale raised his eyebrows.

"Consider it a professional courtesy. I'm the original tempter and you've impugned my abilities."

"Indeed," Aziraphale played along, pursing his lips to keep back a smile "In the face of such unassailable logic who am I to disagree?"

"Right." Crowley said. He walked up to Aziraphale, nodded, and tilted his head. " _Right,_ " he repeated. Moving swiftly, he snaked an arm around Aziraphale's shoulder and brought his hand up to cradle the angel's cheek as he leaned in. The kiss was forceful but chaste. When Crowley made to pull back Aziraphale darted forward and gently nipped his bottom lip. That, plus a completely unsubtle pout, soon had the demon kissing him back in earnest.

By the time they parted Crowley looked exceedingly pleased with himself.

"Well?"

"Overall?” Aziraphale smirked, “A considerable improvement."

" _Excuse_ me."

"It’s only fair I deduct some points for the overwhelming taste of pollen."

"Angel?" 

"Yes dear?"

"Buzz off."


End file.
